Van Helsing's Last Laugh
by MrHookman
Summary: A meeting of two old enemies at the grave of a legend.


Van Helsing's Last Laugh

They came from around the world. Asia, Africa, the Americas, almost two hundred came across the sea to pay tribute to one man.  
'Abraham Van Helsing' was the name on the gravestone, smooth pale marble carved into a perfect crucifix, and underneath it 'Do not fear to think even the most not-probable'  
To the everyman he was nobody of note, just another grave in a seemingly endless maze of them, but to the few who gathered that day he was a legend. The name Van Helsing was synonymous with bravery to them. He, of course, was the one man who had ever come close to killing Vlad Tepes Dracula, the most notorious and deadly of vampires. His allies in that long-gone fight were gathered at the grave too. John and Mina Harker (With their son, Quincy), Lord Arthur Holmwood, and Dr John Seward., a group forever bonded by a decades-old mission.

The mourners, clad in black and white, formed a snaking line and proceeded one by one past the open grave, each dropping a single unblemished white rose down into the dark maw as the priest spoke of the dear departed. Abraham was a staunch Catholic till death despite everything he'd seen and the life he'd led ever since his first encounter with Dracula. Seward, the bespectacled doctor, had just left his final gift to an old friend when he looked to the tree line, some 30 feet away. He wasn't surprised at what he saw, he had fully expected it. He had also expected some kind of enragement at it but, curiously, there was none. The first chance he had he slipped away from the crowd and made his way over to where a tall figure stood in the shadows of an oak. He went unnoticed. As Seward approached the figure it didn't turn tail. As soon as he was in earshot of the doctor he raised the wide brim of his hat and said "Hello John."  
Seward had to repress a shiver at that voice. Rich, refined, a thin hint of Eastern Europe over something as dark and deep as the nearby grave.  
"Hello Vlad. I thought I might see you here."

The ancient Count, tall and imposing and handsome as he had ever been, nodded and said "I wished to show my respect to one of the few men who deserved it."  
"Just be glad that I was the only one who noticed your presence. There's not one man there who wouldn't happily push you out into the sunlight and finish Van Helsing's job for him."  
"But not you, doctor?" Dracula turned his gaze to John, just a piercing and powerful as the man remembered from years ago "Are you so quick to forgive me and forget that beautiful young girl? Lucy, that was her name?"  
Seward took a step back at hearing the name, as if the Count had just slapped him across the face.  
"I would never, in my life, forget her but..." He hesitated "But one does not blame a feral creature for biting. It knows no better."  
Dracula seemed somewhat amused by this.  
"And that is what I am? No better than a hound?" He gave a slight chuckle.  
"_He_ said that to me, after you had taken dear Lucy from us" Said Seward "Even in the midst of the most righteous rage he saw you for what you truly are."

As they talked, another man left the party at graveside. He hadn't noticed the monster hiding in the shadows (As most monsters do), Lord Holmwood was simply leaving, He looked haggard, older than his years. He too had carried a torch for the late Lucy Westenra and he had never quite recovered from her death, as well as what they had been forced to do after she had returned to them as one of Draculas horrendous brides. Dracula himself hadn't noticed the departure, Seward's words had struck a chord and he was mulling over his response.  
"Professor Van Helsing" He began slowly, in his deep and purring tones "Was a man truly worthy of my respect." He looked off to the distant gleaming white crucifix and added "Although I have no delusions that the feeling was mutual. It is a cruel joke that a man such as he should die frail and bed-ridden."  
"He was never frail, not even in the last days. He was still giving orders and planning attacks hours before he passed."  
Dracula gave a slight smile that revealed a little bit too much tooth to make John comfortable  
"I would expect nothing less. What else could entice me back to this country to walk in this cursed sunlight?"  
"Yes, quite a risk for your kind isn't it?" Seward asked, adjusting his spectacles "Makes you vulnerable. Powerless."  
Draculas smile grew wider  
"And I'm sure the great Abraham Van Helsing would love nothing more than for one of his protégés to use his death to cause my own. But you won't."  
He leaned in towards Seward and stared him in the eye "You already tried that once, didn't you doctor?" and then he almost spat "It didn't quite stick."  
For a moment Seward thought the cultured beast would attack but then Dracula sighed and pulled down the brim of his hat again, bathing his face in shadow.  
"A pleasure to see you again, John." He said as he turned away and walked deeper into the forest "I must return to my beloved Transylvania, I'm sure you understand. Give my greetings to the Harkers and Lord Holmwood, I'm sure we'll all meet again one day"  
"I don't think we will, Vlad." Seward said in an oddly flat tone.  
The vampire turned back for a moment and in the dappled forest sunlight his eyes seemed to glow a cold, lycan yellow under the hat.  
"Ah, but who can tell what the future brings?"  
And then there was a hard, fleshy noise as a wooden stake plunged into the Counts chest. Arthur Holmwood, teeth bared like a hound, brought a hammer down onto the stake, cracking into his hated enemy's ribcage. Before Dracula could fight back Seward was behind him. A thick rope wrapped around his throat. The hat was flung away and the sunlight drifting through the canopy of leaves blinded him, sapping the last of his strength. One more merciless hammer-blow and the stake pierced his ancient black heart, leaving Count Dracula to die a final and long-overdue death.

After several minutes of silence Seward stood up and croaked "Did you bring the axe?"  
Speechless, Arthur nodded at the weapon that was leaning against a nearby tree next to a leather satchel.  
"I'll take care of the head" Seward continued "You prepare the transportation."  
He picked up the heavy steel-headed ace and said "We do it right this time. He won't come back again."  
Holmwood turned to leave, hands stained with the dark blood of the monster. He placed a hand against the tree to steady his shaking legs.  
"Do you think he'd be proud of us?" He asked.  
John looked past the trees, past the crowd now leaving through the cast-iron cemetery gates, and to the marble cross that stood tall and proud against the gathering evening clouds.  
"Yes" he said, a tear falling onto the axes rough wooden handle "Yes, I think he would be." 


End file.
